Isilmë mí Lómë (Moonlight in the Darkness)
by CeffylGwyn
Summary: A child who should not have been, is born, and it is her destiny to shape the lives of men, dwarves and elves, although to what end it is not known. Táriel will have to prepare for the worst as she learns to live in this world of danger and adventure, for war is coming; and her role in it will determine the fate of Middle-Earth. *ON HIATUS*
1. Prologue: Long Ago

**A/N:** Well now I'm doing something I have wanted to do for a long time - I hath entered the LOtR FF universe with my own writings...YAY!

Firstly, I am highly unreliable and cannot promise updates too often as I am working on more than one story at once as well as combating real life.

Secondly, this is set pre-war of the ring, and will eventually finish (hopefully) post-war of the ring. Eventually it is also my plan to be a LegolasxOC but we'll see where this goes shall we? :)

Thirdly, I am using the movies a lot, however, as most of the story will be pre-movies (and the Hobbit hasn't come out yet) Other things will come into this fic, as well as characters from the books (Especially Radgast who didn't even appear in the movies :O)

And lastly - to any die-hard Tolkien fans out there - I did a fair bit of research for this, but not as much as I would have liked (I could spend years becoming an expert but sadly I don't think I have enough time)

So Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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...Prologue...

Long ago, on the slopes of Mount Doom, a great battle between the forces of evil and the forces of good was raged, for the destruction or salvation of the world. This battle, the last great war of the second age, has faded into legend and myth. Stories heralding the bravery of the men, dwarves and elves that fought to save Middle-Earth, are still told, over two thousand, four-hundred years on. But those that were there are either dead or do not speak of it, for they remember the darkness and death that followed.

However, hope was rekindled when into this land of feuding kings and warfare, came the Istari in the year TA 1050. These were the five wizards who had come to Middle-Earth to help the peoples rise up against the Dark Lord Sauron. Their names were as follows: Saruman or Curumo 'man of skill, skillful one', the leader of the five who's colour was white; Gandalf or Olórin 'elf of the staff, dreamer' who's colour was grey; Radagast or Aiwendil 'tender of beasts, friend of birds' who's colour was brown; and finally the two blue wizards, Alatar or Morinehtar 'darkness-slayer' and Pallando or Rómestámo 'east helper'.

The role of each of the Istari was clear, and so they traveled throughout Middle-Earth until they came to the place wherein they would be most useful. Saruman took over the tower of Isengard, given the key to Orthanc. Radagast settled in the West woods of Greenwood which later became Mirkwood when it was overrun with dark forces, Gandalf travelled, and became known as the wanderer, giving his counsel to those kings and lords who would heed his words.

Our story however is concerned with the last of the Istari, the two Blue wizards who's actions shaped the happenings of Middle-Earth in more ways than they had bargained for. For one of the Blue Wizard's had a child, and this is her story...

...TA 2460...

'Quickly friend!' Gandalf the Grey called back to the brown wizard behind him, his gnarled staff clicking on the ground as he walked 'Do not tarry. You know what it is we must do and we have very little time in which to do it!'

'Yes Gandalf,' Radagast called, a slight frown on his face as he huffed trying to keep up with the strides which the much taller man was taking. As he walked past, the 'Olvar', the plants, and their flowers, turned their leaves and heads towards him. Oh how he longed to stop, even just for a little while and chat to the flora. To ask them how they found the weather that darkened all around them.

But he had more important things to worry about just now. Something that had not happened in the two-thousand four hundred and ten years they had been in this land, and never should have happened at all. Was about to happen. It did not bode well.

'Hurry Radagast!' the grey wizard called back once more, jerking the brown wizard from his thoughts. The pair sped up the pace as they rounded the last corner in the small, elven building. Suddenly, to their right, a small door opened and an golden-haired elven midwife came out, holding a small, gently wrapped bundle in her arms.

When she saw the two, the elf-woman began walking towards them, and when Gandalf's eyes asked the silent question, she shook her head, tears in her eyes. It was only the child that was left alive. 'It is a girl.' the midwife said, tenderly handing the baby to the tall, bearded wizard, 'And she is alive and healthy.'

Gandalf smiled at the woman before turning his gaze on the child, 'Did her mother give her a name before she...' he trailed off, the important part of the question already asked.

The elf-woman nodded, 'She said the child's name was to be Táriel.' as she made her retreat back into the birthing room. Gandalf frowned in concern at the retreating midwife's back, before fixing his gaze once more on the babe.

'Táriel...Queen. No-one but the council must know of the child's existence. It is not safe for her, or for them.' Gandalf said, softly, but severely as he looked to the other wizard. 'That is why, Radagast, you must take her to your home, deep into the outskirts of Mirkwood, where she will be safe and no harm can come to her. Teach her what you will, but she must not be told of what she is. I will come for her, when I feel she is ready.'

The brown wizard nodded grimly as Gandalf handed him the tiny bundle. As he cradled the child in his arms, for the first time, she opened her eyes, and Radagast was startled to find them a deep purple. 'Mára aurë Táriel,' he whispered sweetly and the babe cooed in response, 'Titta Merliwenna...my little Rose.' In that moment, Aiwendil swore that he would see no harm come to the child, not as long as he drew breath, or as long as she was in need of his protection. And so it began...

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**_Táriel (Tah-ree-ell) - Meaning: Queen  
_**

**_Merliwen (Mare-ill-wehn) - Meaning: Rose  
_**

**_Mára aurë Táriel_****:** Hello Táriel/Queen

**_Titta Merliwen_****:** Little Rose

**A/N:** I beg your pardon if not all elvish translations are correct, Im not 100% on Sindarin and Quenya - let me know if you find a mistake! :)


	2. Yomenië (Gathering)

**A/N:** Howdy my dear readers! Thankyou so much to everyone who followed/favourited/reviewed the last chapter! **hrhfanficlover**, **faye50free**, **Glory Bee**, **Evalyd Yamazaki**,** Kasuka-clan,** **Kersteen** and **scratchtheplans**- this chapter's for you guys :)

I'm a big fan of Howard Shore's music for the LotR movies, and music in general so I wrote this chapter listening to two songs: The new theme for 'The Hobbit' (which I love), and 'Beltane Fire Dance' by Loreena McKennit - she's an amazing musician, especially with some of her singing songs (even though this is not one of them). Check her stuff out on youtube if you feel the need/have time!

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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I.

_...TA 2460..._

If Radagast had thought the care of the plants and beasts was difficult in nature, none could have prepared him for the task ahead; for the care of a child was far more difficult and far more demanding than ever he could have imagined.

On the night he had been made her charge, Radagast had left immediately with the child, stealing away into the darkness like a wraith. Upon leaving the elven township, the midwife had handed him a package, which to his surprise and delight contained small parcel's of elven food. The like of which meant the babe could take one drop and be sated for two or three days; without fear of the stuff becoming rotten or undrinkable. She had given him enough for at least a year.

And so the brown wizard, child in a sling over his shoulder, and staff in hand, made for the West eaves of Mirkwood and home.

_10 years later, in Rhosgobel on the Western eaves of Mirkwood..._

"I adar en adar tin Aiwendil!" the little girl called as she ran towards the old brown-haired wizard, a tiny bird in her hand, "Tirol! Tirol é harya-aiwë! Qualinrya"

Radagast took the little wren from Tariél's hands and stroked the creature's soft feathers, "No, he is not dead my little rose." he laughed softly and ran a finger over the bird's head, "He is just a little bit sore child."

Tariél frowned, her childish face scrunching in confusion, "But you said when they fall out of the tree they die grandfather." she said, her face lighting up with an idea "Can we make him better?"

"Of course we can make him better," Radagast replied, holding out his hand which the girl took, as they started to walk back to a nearby hut, "Come."

It seemed to Aiwendil, that the last ten years had passed in the blink of an eye. He had cared for the child as he believed a father should, and it seemed to him, that he had done a rather fine job of it too. The girl seemed healthy, was intelligent and constantly smiling. Of course, there were several things he wished she would not do, such as take sticks in hand and run throughout the forest banging them against trees (who had told him countless times they did not appreciate the actions of the 'little nymph' as they called her). But he guessed any guardian had such trials with their charges.

Radagast oftentimes asked himself if he and Gandalf had known what they were doing when they had taken Tariél to live a life alone with him. Children needed playmates they could talk to, and he had increasingly noticed that Tariél, although she pretended otherwise, grew frustrated at her inability to communicate with the animals he had coerced into being friends with the small girl. Increasing also, had she begun to ask him questions about the people in his stories. Who they were. What they were like. Would she ever meet them?

He knew the time was fast approaching when she would need to be told her parentage. But not yet. Although ten, short years had passed since her birth, Tariél still had the appearance of a child no older than five summers. Her father was immortal, and her mother, well, she was special; so indeed Tariél was a blessed child. One gifted with long life, and the only one of her kind.

Radagast was suddenly jerked from his thoughts as he noticed Tariél sitting aimlessly looking out the window, (when she should have been helping him) her eyes wide, purple orbs. "Tariél! You are supposed to be helping me, not dreaming child." he grumbled, stirring the contents of the pot (their dinner) over a warm fire, "Lend me a hand with this if you would."

"Yes grandfather," she replied meekly. Quickly, she stood from the window and came over to hand him the two bowls which he in turn spooned a dollop of herbal stew into (Radagast was a tender of beasts, he could not eat them and the plants had kindly offered their leaves to sustain him, they would, after all be able to re-grow them). "I was just thinking of how lovely the moon looked tonight. That's all."

The small bird she had brought back from the forest the day before was sitting asleep on a small perch near the door and would be ready to travel home in a day or two. "The moon? Why yes you are quite right Tariél." Radagast peered out the window, before sitting down in his chair at the table. "Have I told you the tale of the coming of the moon and sun to middle earth?"

"No grandfather," Tariél shook her head, and spooned a mouthful of food into her mouth.

"After the destruction of the two tree's by Morgoth, the Valar, who grieved this greatly, created from a silver leaf and golden fruit...What is wrong?" he asked, frowning as he studied the girl's expression, she looked like she was having a terrible time trying to chew the meal he had prepared. "You are not ill are you?" Although Tariél's father was one of the Istari and impenetrable to sickness, her mother had been mortal, it was unknown the effect the lineage of her blood would have.

Gently, Tariél put down her spoon as she seemed to consider what to say. "It is not that. It's just," she say, her hand fidgeting uncomfortably in her lap, "Well, grandfather, it does not taste very nice."

Radagast stared at her severely for a moment, his brows contracted in a frown, before bursting out in laughter and startling the wren from it's slumber. "So, you do not like my cooking? My herb stew." he chuckled, grinning at the abashed look on Tariél's face, "For how long have you doubted my culinary skills?"

"A while." she admitted, a smile smile gracing her face, "So you are not angry then?"

"No of course not Tariél, you have been honest and spoken your mind, besides," Radagast, shook his head, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, "It has given me a chance to bring up a topic I have been meaning to discuss with you for some time."

Tariél cocked her head, and smiled, leaning forward enthusiastically, eager to learn something new. "Well child, I think now it is your turn to learn to do the cooking," Radagast said smugly, trying not to laugh at the look of displeasure that flashed across her features, "After all, you have reached your tenth year, you are old enough."

"As you wish grandfather," Tariél muttered, scooping up the last of her meal with a wicked glint in her eye and swallowing it in one go. "But may I have someone who actually knows how to cook teach me?" It was Radagast's turn to frown when Tariél smiled at him, the picture of sweet innocence as she cleaned away the dishes.

_...TA 2485..._

_On the Borders of Rhún..._

"So Gandalf Greyhame, it has been twenty-five summers since you delivered the child to that fool Aiwendil," Saruman the white wizard turned to look at his companion with his dark eyes. "And you believe it is now time for the white council to intervene in her education? Why is this?"

They had met in a small human town in the east of Rhovanion, bordering the edge of Rhún. Saruman had spent long years in the east, rallying the hearts of men against the imminent threat of Sauron. Upon his return, he had joined, and been made head of the White Council, formed by the Istari and the wisest of the Eldar in an attempt to free the land of Middle-Earth from evil.

"Saruman, you and I both know the girl is an anomaly, she was not safe anywhere else," Gandalf replied gently, leaning on his staff, "It was best she be raised by one of her own. Radagast was the one among us who was fittest for the task. But she is old enough now to choose for herself the path she shall take."

"You could have chosen to place her in the care of the elves Gandalf, not in the hands of that simpleton!" Saruman growled, storming out into another room "Who knows what bad habits she has taken now that cannot be undone!"

"Radagast has sent me constant correspondence for the past twenty-five years through one of his birds. He tells that she has grown well and now resembles a man-child of twelve years." Gandalf replied, going to stand with his friend. "With her blood she will be long-lived if not immortal. Now is the time to begin her training."

Saruman turned to Gandalf and stared at him quizzically "What would you have her be taught?" he asked sardonically, "She may have none of the power her father was blessed with, and even if she does, who knows what she could do, the possibilities are endless! This was not supposed to happen Gandalf! We were made to be above these human desires!"

Gandalf sighed and sat on a nearby chair, "I know my friend, but it has happened," he replied, looking Saruman in the eye, "and we must learn to accept our fate, and work with what we have been given."

_Several months later, in Rhosgobel on the Western eaves of Mirkwood..._

"When will he be here grandfather?" Tariél asked excitedly, pacing between the trees as she looked for the mighty wizard that was to come to meet them. She had been told that he was there when she was born, that he had been a friend and brother both to Radagast and her father. He was the first person, other that Radagast she was to ever meet and the thought excited her more than anything. "Shouldn't he be here already?"

"Enough Tariél, he will be here shortly," Radagast laughed as he watched her walk from one corner of the clearing to the other "Look, you must stop your pacing girl, you are wearing down that poor grass."

"Yes grandfather." she replied quickly, grabbing a branch and hauling herself into a nearby tree. Twenty-five years gone by never seeing another soul. All that was about to change. Suddenly, Tariél saw a darkened shape moving in the woods to her right, and she exclaimed aloud in surprise, "Grandfather Aiwendil, he is here!"

Radagast smiled at her excitement, "Well then, you must go and meet him." he called out to her, and grinned when startled and happy purple eyes turned on him, "Go on. Go to him."

Tariél needed no further persuasion, and leapt from the tree, stumbling a little as she landed on the grass, but righting before she fell and running on. Suddenly, she was right before the wizard and she came to an abrupt halt, out of breath, and overcome by shyness.

This wizard was not at all what she thought and had imagined him to look like. From what Aiwendil had said, this old man was powerful, but from what she could see, he did not exude the power that had been alluded to. His cloak was grey, and atop his head was a pointed, and rather battered old hat. He leaned heavily on the wooden staff that was in his hand, it's bark gnarled and rough. Most of his face was covered by a long straggly grey beard and hair. His nose was bent, and a little crooked, and his eyebrows grey and bushy. But his eyes; the wizard's eyes were a bright blue, and twinkled with amusement. His eyes did not look as old as his body, Tariél realised and she smiled.

Remembering the manners she had been taught, Tariél spoke first, "Le suilon Olórin. Nin estar Tariél." she said politely, placing a hand over her heart and giving a small bow, "Manen nalyë Mithrandir?"

Gandalf laughed at that, a great, infectious laugh that echoed through the leaves of the trees. "Suilaid, Im maer." he replied, with a smile "Well met Tariél. You certainly have grown since the last time I saw you."

The old wizard studied the young girl, as she appeared before him. Her eyes were the same, striking shade of purple they had been when she was born, her frame was tall and willowy, and pale white skin contrasted flaming red locks that fell from her head in waves. Her appearance was unlike any person he had ever seen, and he realised she would never pass as elf or man.

"Come, let us go meet with Aiwendil." Gandalf said, breaking the silence as he smiled at her. "I have not met with him in many years. Since your birth in fact. We have much to discuss."

• • •

"So I must choose what is to be done?" Tariél restated slowly, mulling over the tonne of information she had just been given. Gandalf and Radagast had greeted one another like long lost friends, when she had lead the former back to her home.

Together, they had gone inside and over a pot of tea, the two wizards had deigned it was time to reveal to Tariél her parentage and the path her life would take. Radagast had begun, telling her the story she had been told since birth of the five wizards who had come to Middle-Earth in the beginning of the Third age, in the year 1050.

"But there is more to this story than one first might think." Gandalf had spoken then, his blue eyes serious as they bored into her own. "For something that had not been planned occurred."

_This is the story he told ~~_

The two Blue Wizards, firm friends, had gone to the far east together, and the other three, went their separate ways. Before Alatar and Pallando, the Blue wizards, began their journeys in the East of Middle-Earth, they first had to cross through Eriador and Rhovanion. While in the North of Eriador, the pair were separated, and the older of the two - Alatar found himself alone in the North Downs, a part of the lost realm of Arnor. Long ago there was a darkness there, the shadow of which still lives on to this day.

Nevertheless, fate was kind to Alatar and after wandering for many years he was found by the Dúnedain, descendants of the Kings of Nümenor who helped him find Pallando once more, and resume his journey. However, this time, the pair did not go alone. A woman, sister to Arahad the first, the seventh Chieftan of the Dúnedain, went with them into the east. Her name was Amiel, and she was your mother Tariél. Alatar or Morinehtar as he is known, is your father.

Tariél had frowned when the grey wizard had finished, "So what does this mean? I have long wondered who my parents were, this answers my questions." she said slowly, before looking up at the two Istari with angry eyes "But why have I only been told now? What was your reasoning for keeping this from me?"

Gandalf had sighed, and looked at her with saddened serious eyes, "The Istari were sent to Middle-Earth to prepare and counsel it's inhabitants on how best to combat the darkness that is rising not far from here. Not to have children." he said, blue eyes meeting purple, "We were placed in the bodies of old men, so this would be prevented, but you are living proof that it was not. You are a child with the blood of Nümenor, and already blessed with long life, but you are also a child with the blood of the Istari, we are immortal, like the elves and we are blessed by the Valar with powers no mortal possesses. This is why we decided to keep you here, away from the gaze of those who might use you to their own power-hungry ends."

Tariél frowned, "I have magic?" she asked curiously, holding up her hands and looking at them, "I have never done anything deemed 'magical' have I, I adar en adar tin Aiwendil?."

Gandalf shook his head, "We cannot know whether or not you will have any 'powers' as such, and that is why I have come." he said solemnly, "To test you, and to give you a choice. You can either stay here with Radagast, and continue as you have until now; or you may come with me, and learn a craft of your choice."

"So I must choose what is to be done?" Tariél restated slowly, mulling over the tonne of information she had just been given. "Where will we go, if I decide to travel with you? Although I do not say I will."

"Yes. If you decide to travel with me, we would take the forest road to the East of Mirkwood, before turning North to King Thurandil of the elves' palace. I have counsel with which I must discuss with him." Gandalf replied, letting off a puff from the pipe he had begun smoking a short time ago. "Then we would continue North to Erebor, the Dwarven stronghold in the Lonely Mountains; before heading South once more."

Tariél's eyes widened in excitement as Gandalf listed the places they would travel. In her heart, she knew she had already decided her answer.

• • •

"Utúlië arwame I adar en adar tin?" Tariél asked softly as they stood out at the edge of the clearing, "Lánye mernë hehtanë nya eressë nossë."

"Im lá anwa nossë Tariél." Radagast smiled sadly, as he took her hands in farewell, and gently pressed a small parcel into them, "Something to remember me by, little rose."

Quickly, she unwrapped the parcel and found it to contain a leather chord with feathers and a brown stone pendant. With a sob, Tariél flung her arms about the little wizard who had been her only companion and family for twenty-five years. "You will always be my family." she whispered, "My true family."

"It is time Tariél." Gandalf said, standing a little away from the pair. As she walked to him, he nodded once to the brown wizard "I will see you soon cousin." And with that, the Istari and Istariel began the journey to the forest road which would lead them through the very depths of Mirkwood.

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_**I adar en adar tin Aiwendil! Tirol! Tirol é harya-aiwë! Qualinrya.: **Grandfather Aiwendil! Look! Look I have a small bird! He is dead.**  
Le suilon Olórin. Nin estar Tariél. Manen nalyë Mithrandir?: **I greet thee Olórin. They call me Tariél. How are you Mithrandir?**  
Suilaid, Im maer.:** Greetings, I am well._  
_**Utúlië arwame. Lánye mernë hehtanë nya eressë nossë:** Come with us Grandfather. I do not want to leave my only family_  
_**Im lá anwa nossë Tariél:** I am not true family Tariél._  
_**Istariel:** Literally means 'Daughter of Istari' or 'Daughter of Wizard's'  
_

**A/N:** Well there we go. First real chapter, whaddaya think? How'd I do?

A fair bit of narration here (oh the exposition!) but I really needed to set a few things up (and after all...how can there be much dialogue - Radagast and Tariél live alone in Rhosgobel). Dialogue will increase as we go along and more characters come into the story. :)

Saruman never had much tolerance for Radagast as he was made by the Valar to take him to Middle-Earth. Even though at this time, 600 years before the War of the Ring, he is not corrupted/evil, I wanted to show the type of personality that could have lead him to that end. So hopefully it worked!

I made up the whole 'Blue Wizards' story, although they did go into the east. Also cyber cookies to whoever can guess WHO Arahad the second is ;)

It is my belief that an important, young character should not begin with amazing skills, instead shape them as the story goes. The moulding of their skills moulding their personalities. So this is what I plan to do with Tariél, (as she has basically no skills whatsoever poor dear :P). I hope she doesn't seem 'Mary Sue-ish' to you guys! Let me know if she ever starts going in that direction ok?

If anyone is interested - I found some really good/useful sites for elvish vocab - PM if you want the link :) Also one more important thing - would you rather in-line elvish translations, or are you all good with them being before the authors notes? Cherrio!


	3. Lendë (Travelling)

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Before I get straight into the second chapter, I'd just like to say thank you to all those that followed/favourited/reviewed the last chapter. Especially **DoctorMerlinfan,** **Nemo,** **Glory Bee,** and **PokeKid 25.** Your overwhelming support made me so happy thank you so much! :)

Lot's been happening since last chapter, and some of you may have noticed I have changed the name of the fic (just an eensy weensy little bit :P) to make it more 'grammatically correct'. So it's proper name is now 'Isilmë mí Lómë' as you can see. Also I made a bit of a mistake - Tariél's uncle is Arahad the first, not the second (No.2 wasn't even going to be alive for another 200 years or so! :P) and that heinous mistake has been amended!

Not 100% happy with this chapter, it was actually a really hard one for me to churn out, and hopefully the next one will be easier and not take as long!

Best wishes to all my readers who are on the East Coast of the US, my thoughts are with you :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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II.**  
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Tariél had decided that she was not overly fond of walking long distances. Without breaks. For a long period of time. It did not help that the grey wizard ahead of her had insisted on quiet. "There are things lurking in the depths of this forest," he had said, "That neither I, nor you would wish to awaken."

"Like what?" Tariél had frowned, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Creatures of darkness," Gandalf replied grimly, "Wolves and boars, wraiths, spiderlings, even Goblins at times. Something is stirring in Mirkwood. Something dark."

And so, they had made for the Old Forest Road in silence, from the time the sun rose, until it set and darkness fell. It was only when the pair settled down for the night in front of a small fire lighted a little off the path, that Gandalf finally spoke once more.

"I am sorry I had you keep silent Tariél." he said, blinking owlishly, "I had no wish to draw unwanted attention to us, but now we are on the road, we should be a little safer."

At that precise moment, a loud and haunting howl echoed up and around the trees in which they had taken shelter and Tariél frowned, unconvinced. A part of her was almost beginning to regret leaving the safety of her home, but she firmly squashed that thought.

"Mithrandir, you said that you wished to test me." Tariél said softy, drawing her knees up to her chest and leaning against a nearby tree trunk. "Have you done so already or is that yet to come?"

Gandalf studied her over his hooked nose, "No I have not yet," he said, "But now that you bring it to my attention. Test you I shall." With that he stood from his place on the other side of the fire and moved directly in front of her. As he seated and settled himself, Tariél observed him with a frown.

"This will not hurt will it?" she asked nervously, not at all reassured by his half smile.

"No child. It should not." he said, before reaching his hand out between them as if he meant to grab her, but stopping before his fingers reached her tunic. Slowly, he closed his eyes, and Tariél felt it. At first she didn't know what it was, it was a not painful feeling, yet it was uncomfortable. She felt like one of the bowls in her cottage, being scoured from the inside out.

As suddenly as it had begun, the sensation passed and Gandalf opened his eyes, the grey-blue orbs troubled by a frown. "I do not know Tariél." he said, clearly perturbed by whatever he had found. "I felt something...tugging at the corners of mind, but I could not place it. You may have some 'gift' as such, but I can feel nothing in the way of the kind of power your father, and the Istari possess."

Tariél did not know whether or not to be disappointed. Just when she thought she had something, some hidden ability of which to be proud, there was nothing. She felt Gandalf's eyes on her, and jerked her gaze up to meet his.

"Sometimes Tariél, a power can be less of a blessing and more like a curse. The Istari were sent to middle earth to aid it's inhabitants in the fight against Sauron, and as such have wandered this land for many years with no other purpose than to aid others." Gandalf said kindly, "By the gifts we were given, we were created to serve others. Do not wish for something which could prove your undoing, not all would accept you and any gift you possessed. You would be hunted by creatures of the dark all your life. No indeed, it is not something you should wish for."

Tariél's mouth settled in a hard line. So there was no possibility of her having the same gifts as those the Valar had bestowed on her father. The journey ahead was going to be a long one, she could feel it in her heart.

• • •

The pair were still walking, several days later, and Tariél had grown bored with the constant trudging through the forest. She shifted the small pack over her shoulder uncomfortably as she thought about something to break the never-ending silence.

"Olórin, what did my mother look like?" she asked curiously, her mind wandering to the woman she had never known. "How did she die? Will I ever meet the Dúnedain?"

Gandalf laughed softly to himself at her questions. For all she had seen twenty-five summers, Tariél still looked, and acted like a child of no more than twelve. "Your mother was very beautiful. She had long dark hair, black almost, just like yours. " he said, glancing over at the girl as they continued walking, "She had grey eyes, and was almost as tall as her brother Arahad. She died, giving birth to you, and yes, one day you will probably meet the Dúnedain, they are, after all, your family. "

Tariél considered what he had said, her mind working furiously. She had family. "What was she like? Was she nice?" she asked eagerly, glad the old wizard was answering some of her many questions. "Does that make you family too Olórin?"

Gandalf smiled kindly at her, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Yes indeed, I am family. Not in the traditional sense of blood, but in spirit." he said, blue eyes twinkling with mirth as they continued walking, "Now let me see, your mother was a fiery one. Completely untamable and headstrong, but kind. She and your uncle were the pride and joy of the Dúnedain people - strong, and good leaders."

Tariél sighed as they settled down once more to make camp. For much of her life, for all she loved Radagast, she felt like there was something missing, something she still had yet to do. Sometimes, she thought that it was the absence of a mother, but other-times not.

"Gandalf, the Elven-King Thranduil that we are going to see, what is he like?" Tariél asked, her thoughts turning from the past to the future. "What do elves look like?"

The grey wizard laughed gently at her probing questions - she certainly was curious, and he wondered dimly how Radagast had managed to curb all the questions in the past twenty-five years. "Elves look a lot like men, except they are fairer than any man ever can be, and have finely pointed ears. They are skilled in the ways of healing, war and music, and are both beautiful and terrible to behold. There are three main branches of the Eldar: the Vanyar, the Noldor, and the Teleri. The Sindar elves, or Grey-elves are members of the Teleri" Gandalf said, leaning back against a nearby tree-trunk. "Thranduil is a Grey-elf, and is much like any other Sindar elf. His wisdom has governed the eaves of Mirkwood for many hundreds of years. Did Radagast teach you none of this?"

Tariél picked up a stick and began twirling it in her hands as she absorbed the information, "No. He did not, I know more about plants and animals than about the history of the peoples of Middle Earth." she sighed a little sadly as she remembered her 'history' lessons with Radagast, which often diverged into what plant did what, and which animal was friendlier than another, "I am afraid my knowledge is sadly limited to the basics which only the most untrained child would know."

Gandalf's busy grey eyebrows were turned together in a frown as he considered her words. "Well then I shall have to teach you, or perhaps get one of Thranduil's court to teach you." he said, staring up into the leaves of the trees, deep in thought. "You have much to learn. Come now, you must sleep. Tomorrow we leave the path and travel directly North to Thranduil's palace, it is the harder road, but much faster than leaving the wilderness of Rhóvanion and circling the forest."

• • •

"These are the mountains of Mirkwood." Gandalf said, as she stared up at the small, dark peaks that rose like jagged spires out from the trees and into the sky. "We are close to Thranduil's palace, but even still. This is not a place of safety. Stay close."

Together, they made their way into the mountains, moving quickly through the gathering shadows that threatened to overwhelm them. It took half the day for the pair to move through, barely leaving an imprint on the ground as they hastily walked through the rocks and crevices with a growing sense of dread.

"Keep a sharp eye Tariél." Gandalf said softly, his piercing gaze flickering about them. "There are many rock-holes and burrows in this place where creatures whom we do not wish to disturb, hide."

Tariél began to panic a little at the thought as she sidestepped a nasty looking rock. She was not prepared for this, she did not know how to fight! Radagast had never taught her, and she didn't think he had ever even killed something in all his years in Middle Earth. To seal her fate, she didn't even have a weapon to protect herself, relying solely on Gandalf's abilities.

Somewhere to her right, a branch snapped and Tariél saw movement from the corner of her eye. She managing to jump out of the way just in time as a spider, the half her size, lunged for the place she had stood seconds ago, its fangs clicking and spinneret's spraying a foul smelling liquid.

When it did not find it's prey, small black and beady eyes turned, seeing her, and it clicked it's fangs in annoyance once more, preparing to lunge again. Suddenly, a spray of green liquid spurted from its head as Gandalf's sword descended on it, and Tariél dodged just in time to escape being struck with the foul stuff.

An unearthly scream came from the creature as it cried out in pain, writhing about on the leaves and Tariél doubled over in agony, the sound too harsh for her ears. Mercifully, Gandalf swung his sword once more, and the giant spider went quiet.

She was still shaking badly when Gandalf turned to her, "Tariél, we must move quickly, " he said urgently, a look of disgust and worry clearly evident on his face. "Night is almost upon us and we are not close enough to King Thurandil's palace for comfort. I fear that where there is one Spiderling there will be more."

Tariél just nodded dumbly, sidestepping the fallen beast as she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself and followed the grey wizard. The darkness that had just began to descend on the trees fell faster and faster as the pair continued to walk, their pace the quickest it had been the entire journey.

Suddenly, Gandalf pulled up short in front of her, coming to a dead halt, and causing her to almost run into him. "What is it?" Tariél asked in a whisper, suddenly terrified by the look of angry fear that crossed the old wizards face.

Gandalf shook his head and moved off, faster than he had before, "We must not delay," he growled grimly, "More are coming. We must get as close to Thurandil's palace as we can before they catch up to us, and hope that the King has enough foresight to send us aid."

Tariél's eyes widened in horror as she ran to catch up with her mentor, "What do you mean 'when they catch us', surely we can outrun them?" she almost pleaded, her hopes failing as Gandalf merely shook his head in reply.

• • •

The darkness enshrouded the pair as they walked hastily through the forest. "The trees, what do they say?" Gandalf muttered quietly to her, his blue eyes constantly flicking around them, searching for any sign of the danger following them.

Tariél was breathing hard, her mind fuzzy as she tried to concentrate hard enough to understand what they were saying. She shook her head, confused. "I cannot understand them Gandalf, it's almost as if..."

Whatever she was about to say was cut off as her head snapped back, her ears catching the sounds of twigs snapping and leaving rustling from the path behind them. Slowly, the two turned around, halting their flight as they furtively looked behind them. What she saw made Tariél want to scream. There were hundreds of Spiderlings climbing over the rocks and covering ground behind them, their small black eyes making her shudder.

With a shout, Gandalf pushed her to the side behind him and stepped toward the oncoming horde, wielding his staff in one hand and the sword that had been strapped to his waist amidst the folds of his cloak in another. Using his staff and sword, she watched as the grey wizard managed to hold off the Spiderlings. Suddenly, with a whistled shriek, another creature appeared behind Olórin and attempted to ambush him. Tariél grasped the first thing that came to hand and threw a rock, hitting it directly in the center of it's head and causing it to fall, writhing to the ground, it's legs curling in death.

Momentarily triumphant with her success, Tariél picked up rocks from around her and flung them at the oncoming Spiderlings. Their attention, which before, had been solely on the old wizard, turned to focus on her also, and several surged towards her. Tariél had never been as afraid as she was in that moment. A Spiderling reared on it's back legs and lunged at her, countless more behind and another attacking Gandalf. She could see the poisonous fangs of the creature move closer, searching for her, and unable to find any more rocks to throw, Tariél scrambled back into the boulders around them.

A long, pincered leg grabbed hold of her breeches as she struggled to move, dragging her back down towards hungry mouths and something clicked inside her. To Tariél, it felt as if she were being split in two, excruciating pain surging through her, and causing a guttural scream to tear itself from her throat. Suddenly there was nothing, as the world around her exploded into bright, white light.

• • •

The first traces of dawn were hinted in the pink of the sky as the grey wizard entered the gates of Thranduil's Palace; the young girl's body hanging lifelessly from his arms. In a rush of silver and green, a blonde elf, his entourage moving gracefully behind him, descended on the pair.

"Mithrandir, let us ease you of your burden." Thranduil said, gently, motioning for a pair of elves to take Tariél from him. "We will bring her to our healers. She will not die. Your journey has been long, you must rest, and then you may tell all."

As the elves and their precious charge moved off, Gandalf grasped the forearm of the King roughly, "I must speak with you." he whispered urgently, his aged face dirty and troubled, his gaze haunted, "Alone."

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**A/N:** Hope all my lovely readers have a great week. I love getting your feedback on what I write so feel free! Until next time! :)


	4. Echuio (Awaken)

**A/N:** Hi everyone - very, very happy with the number of people who are favouriting/following/reviewing. Look at my inbox every day and beam. However, I SEVERELY apologise for how long it took me to get here! Long time... What I had previously written for this chapter was after all, not what I wanted to happen, so I went back and rewrote the whole thing, splitting events into two chapters instead...

Sadly, at the moment, this story ha been moved to the bottom of my priorities, I'm going to be really busy (even more so from here out). However, it is still a priority, I'm not going to forget it. :)

Because there are so many, thanks will be at the bottom :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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III.

Darkness. All there was in the nothingness was darkness. A deep void of black that descended beyond time and space. Yet, there was no time, nor space, there was simply, the void. But even still, there was a presence, a silent being that encapsulated everything. Suddenly, it was as if something changed, a shift that echoed around like a roll of thunder; and then there was a single piercing ray - not of light, but of sound. It was not of any made instrument, and could not be described. It was beautiful and sweet, yet terrible and great.

Tariél saw and felt all. Finally, they appeared from the ray - people, more beautiful and terrible than any that could ever exist in the imagination. Eight male and seven female. All but one shone with an indefinite brightness that cast a glow on all around them. She could feel the darkness emanating from the one, and something in Tariél quivered with fear. Another shift, and she saw land and waters rise, birds and other creatures appear. Then there were elves, rising from the ground, each beautiful and powerful, yet different. Then more, men, and dwarves.

What she saw, coming from the Dark One however, made her skin crawl - no light shone from him, and no beautiful creatures did he create. Tariél saw a darkness rolling from him, but not the same type as there had been first. This darkness was full of a malicious vanity and greed, not the emptiness of before. She saw the way he twisted the creatures of beauty the people of the light had made, and she saw the battles and wars that followed.

Suddenly her head split and time flowed through her. Everything that had come to pass, she saw. Tariél felt, and lived the life of every breathing creature, every man, elf, and dwarf. She lived it all - their joy, pain, and anger. She experienced every war, every battle and every death. She felt every love, every happiness and every birth.

Tariél saw her mother, then herself - no more than a tiny bundle wrapped in swaddling. She saw Radagast, Gandalf, Saruman, he life on the Western eaves, and finally, time stopped. Brilliant blue eyes stared at her intently, studying her, evaluating her, and leaving her feeling like they belonged to someone important. Then they blinked and were gone.

• • •

The first thing Tariél became conscious of, was the dull throbbing of her head, and the dark green quality of the light that flickered through her eyelashes. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and for what felt like the first time in a long time, she took a deep breath, her lungs filling with the clean, crisp air that surrounded her.

Tariél tested her fingers, which, despite creaking with what felt like age, seemed to work fine. Slowly, she sat up a little, and for the first time looked around the room she was in. To her surprise, it was fashioned as if from the wood of trees, a lot like the home of Radagast had been. Yet, where his was all roughness and created a natural homey feel, with the odd, rogue branch sticking out in the middle of the room. This was all elegance and lithe beauty. From her place on the bed, she could see the intricate workings of the wood that flowed up and formed a ceiling above her.

Dimly, Tariél realised that she was in Thranduil's palace, home of the Woodelves. It was the only logical explanation. Gently, she smoothed back the covers of the bed she found herself in, and forced her protesting muscles to work. Just as one toe hit the smooth stone of the floor, the door (which looked as if it had been woven from the branches of a tree) flew open and several people walked in; and Tariél scrambled once more beneath the covers.

The first was a man - or male elf, with silvery blonde hair that fell about his shoulders. His face was sharp and angular, and his piercing blue eyes with black brows spoke volumes of wisdom and keen intelligence. It was his face, and not the crown of burnished leaves that adorned his head, which told her that this elf was the Elvenking Thranduil.

Behind him came two elven women, twins, and once more, Tariél knew who they were. Tuilinneth and Alfirineth, The Swallow, and Immortal flower - daughters of Thranduil. They held the same poised dignity and sharpness of their father, with his long silvery hair, but with the green eyes of their mother. That was something she did not wish to think about.

From her place on the bed, Tariél bowed her head "Dhe suilanthon Thranduil, Elvenking; Tuilinneth, Alfirineth ." she said softly, "Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, gail síla erin lû e-govaned 'wîn."

If they had been surprised by her greeting, the elves did not show it. They simply smiled and inclined their heads in reply. "Mê dh'ovannen Tariél Alatarsell und Amielsell. Dhe nathlam hi." Thranduil replied, when suddenly, another person entered.

Immediately, Tariél smiled and relaxed, "Radagast!" she cried happily, throwing back the covers and attempting to race over to her guardian. Sadly, her attempt failed epically, and she had not taken more than two steps before she promptly fell over. Luckily, before she hit the floor, the Elvenking caught her, and deposited her safely back on her bed. Blushing furiously, Tariél thanked him, and not wishing to be rude, but desperate to talk to him, looked to the brown wizard, "I don't mean to sound rude, but what are you doing here? Where is Gandalf, and how did I get here for that matter?"

Radagast was fidgeting terribly, his eyes flickering to Thranduil, and her, then around the room. Finally, he stepped forward and hugged her, "Oh this is wonderful, so wonderful!" he exclaimed, giving her a squeeze, before moving away, excitedly, "Everything can go back to normal now! Gandalf will be so pleased! Oh, there was something I had to tell you..."

"That Gandalf has gone." Thranduil said gently, whilst the wizard attempted to conjure the fact from his mind.

Radagast smiled, "Ohhhh yes, that is right, Gandalf has gone, but he should be back in a few years - not too long at all." he said confidently, but concern etched itself over his features when he saw Tariél's distraught look. "What's wrong my dear?"

"I thought he was going to show me middle-earth, take me with him." Tariél said, dumbfounded and more than a little hurt, "When did he leave?"

Radagast took the opportune moment to become quite flustered again. "Oh my, yes, well...How about I go and bring you some tea while Thranduil tells you what happened, my dear." he said, practically fleeing from the room. Tariél sighed, so Radagast wished to avoid answering, that did not bode particularly well.

Ice blue eyes turned on her, "You may need to prepare yourself for this Tariél, you have been asleep for a very long time." Thranduil said slowly, as if gauging her reaction, "Gandalf left us for the first time ten years ago, not long after you came to us, perhaps three months. He carried you in unconscious, and left you in our care when he was called elsewhere."

Tariél could not think straight, couldn't breathe. Ten years? "How...why...what..." she gasped out, her head starting to ache once more.

"I think you and I should discuss this. There is much that needs to be explained." Thranduil interjected her tirade smoothly, pulling a nearby chair closer to her bedside, before turning and saying something to his daughters, who then left the room. Tariél barely noticed the exchange however, too busy trying to process the information she had just been given. It was a hard fact to believe.

"First of all, when you were brought here, Gandalf instructed me in the secret you hold." Thranduil said calmly, and Tariél looked up at him sharply. So much for the level of secrecy regarding her parentage the grey wizard had impressed upon her. "It is, however, not my secret to tell. You have slept for the entirety of the time you have been here. At first, our healers tried to help you, but you had gone too deep, and you were left in the hands of the Valar."

Tariél frowned, thinking. The Elvenking practically radiated power and calm; if she were to stay here and learn, she would trust him. Just as Gandalf (and Radagast) obviously did. "When I was unconscious...I dreamed..." Tariél said slowly, looking up into the elf's eyes. "And yet, I do not really think it was a dream, but a remembrance of everything that has ever happened."

Thranduil frowned, his blue eyes studying her piercingly, "What did you see?" he asked.

"I saw the world, it's creation. I saw fifteen beings appear, as if out of nowhere and shape the earth. I saw one turn to darkness. I saw wars, and death and destruction." Tariél said softly, her eyes downcast as she recalled her visions. "I lived the life of every creature to ever walk the earth."

If the Elvenking was surprised, he did not show it; his gaze still an impenetrable stare. "And do you remember everything that you saw?" Thranduil asked quietly. "The events of all lives?"

Tariél frowned, thinking back and trying to sort through her muddled mind, "No, I do not." she said finally, after some time, "Not every detail. But I can still remember people - I knew your daughters - their names." Thranduil nodded, his face pensive. Just as it seemed he was about to say something, there was another knock at the door and this time it was Radagast who entered once more, another elf close behind him.

"Tea, Tariél! Just how I know you like it!" the brown wizard said cheerfully as he entered (although, she could still see the worry plain as day on his face), "Did Thranduil tell you? I'm so sorry my dear, I didn't know how to...it just wasn't right...I mean, you were always a deep sleeper but never like this! I-"

"Aiwendil," Tariél cut in gently, realising that he was heading in the direction of one of his fretful conversations he sometimes held with himself, "It is alright. I will be more than fine. I'm just a little...confused. Thank you for the tea."

Radagast had calmed when she had said his name, and he smiled and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, "Alright my dear." he said, pulling another seat to her bedside, "Although I am sure you would want nothing more than to get up after sleeping for so long!"

Tariél laughed, her old guardian still made her smile. Apart from a few more silver hairs, he was unchanged and she almost couldn't believe that ten years had passed. It seemed like only a few days ago that she had left him in Rhosgobel, "This may surprise you, but I feel like I could go back to sleep for another millennia." she said with a smile, "I feel so tired."

It was then that Thranduil spoke up, and Tariél's attention turned back to the Elvenking, and the elf that stood beside him. "Tariél, this is Nestadir." he said, "He is our healer here, and will check that you are alright - if you so permit."

Tariél smiled and nodded at the elf. He looked much the same as Thranduil, tall and willowy with silvery blonde hair; but with bright green eyes instead of blue. Where the Elvenking's eyes were old and powerful, Nestadir's eyes were so deep and wise that she found herself almost drowning in them. She knew immediately, he was old, so very very old.

Tariél closed her eyes and gave herself up to the feeling of serenity and calm that flowed from the elf when his hands hovered inches over her face. She could feel the blackness of sleep creeping at the corners of her mind, drawing her down; and desperately, she tried to keep herself awake.

"No, do not fight it." a deep voice spoke up, gentle, but firm, "Accept it. Sleep Tariél." With a sigh, Tariél listened to the voice and obeyed; relinquishing her hold on the waking world, and giving herself up to the dark of sleep. This time however, she did not dream.

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**A/N: **The way I have described the creation of Middle-Earth is based on the way Tolkien described it. I am drawing from his lore and not making things up willy nilly, I promise. If anybody can guess who the fifteen people are at the beginning of creation, you get a cyber cookie ;) (You don't need to state their names, just who they are in general)

Moving on...

Thanks to **zenstarrflower**, **page88**, **Mad4books**, **chained2love**, **Lonetear**, **sleepyPrincess**,, and for following. **Mercede216**, **emickohana21**, and **Suz Singer** for favouriting, as well as **breneke87**, **BarronsBaubles**, and **hungergamespetalover** for both favouriting and following. To **Kasuka-clan**, **Poke Kid 25** and **alicewonton** as well for reviewing.

Thank you all so much, I know it's taken me a while, but each and every one of you have contributed to me pushing to get this chapter out. Thank you :)

**alicewanton:** Thanks for your review! I was a little depressed when I realised you were a guest and I couldn't reply personally but oh well! :P I'm glad you are appreciating it. I really am a super hard core Tolkien junkie (I will actually get around to learning Sindarin and Quenya properly one day!) so I don't mind doing research. Woot! I'm glad you think her name suits. I can't remember if I already said, but it is the Elvish form of Regina - or Queen (Yes I purposely looked up names in Tolkien's Elvish :P) and I try never to do anything without a reason ;) Thanks again!

**Translations:**

_**Dhe suilanthon Thranduil, Elvenking:** I give greetings to you Thranduil, Elvenking._

_**Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, Gail síla erin lû e-govaned 'wîn**: I am happy to meet you, a star shines on the hour of our meeting._

_**Mê dh'ovannen Tariél Alatarsell und Amielsell. Dhe nathlam hi:** Well met Tariel, daughter of Alatar and Amiel. You are welcome here._


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